


When I'm with you

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: A Million Little Pieces [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthdays, Happy Birthday Albus, Hogwarts, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 04:58:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You will never forget the first time you laid eyes on Albus Severus. You were eleven years old and ready to take those first steps out from beneath the shadows of your parents; the ones that had been looming over you your entire life. You were standing on a platform at King’s Cross and you turned around and around in slow circles, taking everything in. From the massive steam engine of the Hogwarts Express to the buzz of parents and children of various ages milling about, everything excited you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I'm with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unkissed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkissed/gifts).



> Although this is technically a few days early for Albus' birthday, I couldn't resist gifting him early because I love him dearly. 
> 
> The reason I stopped at 6th year is because there is no 7th year, which I hope I made clear in the story. 
> 
> For Albus, the birthday boy and our favorite boy in the band.

**_1 st year_ **

****

You will never forget the first time you laid eyes on Albus Severus. You were eleven years old and ready to take those first steps out from beneath the shadows of your parents; the ones that had been looming over you your entire life. You were standing on a platform at King’s Cross and you turned around and around in slow circles, taking everything in. From the massive steam engine of the Hogwarts Express to the buzz of parents and children of various ages milling about, everything excited you. Your father and Uncle Theo had escorted you to the station and were both looking suspiciously glassy eyed for their own reasons.  Your mother was there too, although she wasn’t glassy-eyed at all and you are fairly certain that she doesn’t know how to cry unless it’s orchestrated.

 

The sounds and smells swirled around you like teasing flicks of unspoken promises and you couldn’t help but smile because you were _so_ happy to finally be stepping out on your own.  Uncle Theo had knelt down beside you and he watched you for a long while before he said anything at all because, even though he was going to miss you terribly, he was so damn happy to be sharing this moment with you.  “Hogwarts isn’t going to know what hit her.” He said finally, and when you turned to grin at him he winked at you.  Uncle Theo was your favorite; there had never been any denying it. It wasn’t as if you didn’t love your parents and your grandmother, but he was different. Never once had he treated you like a child and he always had the very best advice. There was never a question why your father couldn’t stand to be without him for very long, Uncle Theo was just that kind of person—The type that made you feel good about yourself without even trying. He knew just what to say and had this special way of loving you that always made you feel like you were on top of the world. You knew it was foolish to think that there was someone like Uncle Theo out there for everyone, but somewhere hidden inside you wanted that too.

 

“You are not your father, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise.” Theodore was smiling again and this time he couldn’t help the scant tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. You turned to him and threw your arms around him and hugged him tightly because you hadn’t really thought about how many things about him that you were going to miss until this exact moment. On Sundays the three of you would always go out for brunch and you and Uncle Theo would make syrup pictures on your short stacks while your father hid behind his dark sunglasses and pretended to be offended. Uncle Theo let you drink coffee when your father was at work and he never once tried to make you be anything that you were not. Suddenly the idea of leaving the safety of living with Theo and your father seemed terrifying. Who would he share the Saturday print with over biscuits and tea in the morning when your father was still sleeping? Who would he laugh with when your father misplaced his stupid cufflinks and was tearing apart the house looking for them? You knew that you shouldn’t feel guilty, and that this was all part of growing up, but you couldn’t help it and so you pulled out of your hold you still had on him to peer evenly at him. “I’m going to miss you guys.” You say when you can think of nothing else and when a tear actually escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek you both laugh and you feel slightly better.

 

“Mummy will miss her _special little boy_ too.” Astoria was standing behind Theodore and smiling down at you with painted red lips. You knew she was full of it and you hardly doubted she’d notice after a drink or two but you smiled anyways and moved to give her a quick hug. “See you at Christmas Mum.” You say and when she pats the top of your head you cringe and swat her hands away impatiently.

 

Your father doesn’t kneel down like Uncle Theo did but he still takes a moment for himself to wish you well and remind you to be respectful to your Professors. He also makes a vague comment about the creaky floorboard near the fireplace in the Slytherin common room that you don’t quite understand but you smile anyways because he seems pretty damn pleased about it.

 

When you turn around again the crowds of people have thinned out just a little bit and that is when you spot him, down at the other end of the platform surrounded by a sea of bodies that you know to be his family. Of course this isn’t _really_ the first time you’ve seen Albus Potter. You’ve seen his pictures in the pages of the Prophet on occasion, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him in person and you can’t help but watch him as his father kneels down before him to speak privately with him; much like your Uncle Theo had done with you moments before.  You find yourself wondering what was being said between them even though you know that it is not really your business. You are shaken out of your observation when Duston and Alexa come barreling into you and drag you towards the train without so much as a backwards glance.  When you turn around to wave at your family they are waving back and you smile and swallow the tiny pang of sadness as you board the train with your friends, ready to take on the world.

 

Of course you sorted Slytherin, right along with your small handful of friends. When Albus also sorts Slytherin, Bryce and Duston exchange a _look_ and **that** is how it all starts.

 

Later that night you find yourself in the first year boy’s dorm surrounded by your friends and of course, Albus Severus. He looks nervous and so you take his hand and tell him you can read his future in the fine lines that crisscross the underside. Of course you can’t _really_ read his future, but you like to think that you are fairly observant for eleven and so you tell him all sorts of fantastic things that make him peer wondrously at you through sections of dark hair. As usual your friends ruin everything with their jokes and you can’t help but feel somewhat guilty when Albus turns in early.  It is much later when you part the curtains of his four poster and do your best to assure him that you are not full of shit, despite what Duston said earlier.

 

Even though you’ve only just met him today, there is something about Albus that seems different to you somehow. When you look at him you see fathomless possibilities and somewhere inside you just _know_ that he is special.

 

By the time you are climbing back into your own bed you are smiling and feeling much better after your chat with Albus and you fall asleep as soon as you head hits the pillow. When you sleep you dream and it’s all brilliant white light and swirling black and you don’t remember it in the morning. 

 

You catch up to Albus on the way to breakfast the next morning and when you fall into step beside him it feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. You ask him about his summer holidays and you talk about classes and you don’t think twice about who he is or what his name is. Of course you’ve heard about the Potter family. Your father is not exactly the subtle type and he seems to have had some sort of stupid rivalry with Albus’ father when they were in school. Uncle Theo’s words ring in your ears as you walk through the halls and you smile because even though he wasn’t here, Theo was still managing to give you perfect advice.  Of course he was right. You are not your father and although you’ve been subject to more than your share of guilt by association in your admittedly short life, you have never once let it affect you too deeply because you know that the mistakes of your family are not your fault. You imagine that Albus might sort of feel that way too and you resolve to never let the mistakes that your parents made outline your friendship with Albus.

 

Yes, that’s right. You’ve already decided that you would be friends. It just seems right somehow; natural.

 

By the time your birthday rolls around a fortnight later you and Albus have become fast friends. When he turns up with a chocolate cupcake you smile ridiculously large and you close your eyes and make a wish and although he begs you tell him what it is, you never do because you want it to come true.

 

Before you know it November is upon you and it’s Albus’ turn to have a birthday. You drag him up to the Astronomy tower between afternoon classes to give him his present. You aren’t sure why you go to all the trouble to be alone with him; you could have given him his gift anywhere. But this is his first birthday you have spent with him and you wanted it to be special.  You don’t have a cupcake but you do have a tin of your grandmother’s toffee tied neatly with a green bow.  “Happy birthday, Albus.” You say and then you hand him the tin and your cheeks burn with color. During dinner in the great hall you and the rest of the Slytherin house bust out into a raucous rendition of _happy birthday_ and you can’t help but laugh when Albus turns scarlet from all the attention.

 

By the time your very first Christmas holiday rolls around you and Albus have become practically inseparable. Your friends tease that the two of you are conjoined and it doesn’t bother you at all. What does bother you is the impending separation and it eats silently at you because, although you’ve only just found Albus, you already feel like you cannot live without him by your side.

  
You spend Christmas with your father and Uncle Theo and your mind is on Albus the entire time. When your mother agrees to let Albus visit the following week you are over the moon and the afternoon you spend with him at your mother’s townhouse in London is the greatest day of your life. By the time the New Year rolls around you are itching to return to school and you barely pause to hug your family goodbye before bounding aboard the Hogwart’s Express to find Albus. The rest of your first year slips through your fingertips faster than you can comprehend and before you know what’s hit you, you are once again packing up to leave for summer holidays. You know that you can more than likely talk your mother into allowing Albus and his mum at _least_ one visit, but still the impending summer looms over you like a dark storm cloud and you resolve to bug your father incessantly until he changes his mind about Albus Potter.

 

You don’t get to visit Godric’s Hollow that summer, but you do manage to see Albus twice—Once in London at your mother’s townhouse, and another in Diagon Alley, where the four of you meet up for lunch. Apparently your mother an Albus’ mother have been spending more time together and are now friends, which both amuses you and terrifies you. The hours you spend with Albus melt away all of the anxiety and impatience of summer for a little while at least, and you never feel as good as you do when you are with him because in just one short year he has managed to ruin you for the rest of the world and you don’t even realize it yet.

 

**_2 nd year_ **

****

By the time summer holiday ends you are practically _dying_ to get back to school. Uncle Theo escorts you to King’s Cross along with your father; your mother is conspicuously absent and you don’t give it a second thought. This time you aren’t nearly as awestruck as you were the year before and although you are once again scanning the entire platform, you are looking for something specific. Your face brightens up the moment you spot him and you don’t even notice the fond smile that Theo looks at you with or how your father’s gaze follows yours across the platform to the cluster of Potter-Weasleys or the way he grimaces inwardly. 

 

“Go on then, you’ve been waiting all summer.” Uncle Theo whispers in your ear and you pause only long enough to hug them both before darting off through the crowd straight towards Albus. Theodore rights himself and stands very close to Draco, who is still watching you through sharply narrowed eyes. When Theo’s fingers close around Draco’s wrist he visibly softens and reluctantly tears his gaze away from your retreating form. “You are not your father.” He murmurs quietly for only Draco to hear and when Draco snorts softly under his breath, Theodore chuckles fondly and shakes his head. They both watch you in silence for several moments and they don’t miss the dramatic reunion that takes place between you and Albus. When you fling your arms around one another like long lost brothers Theodore smiles again and the vein in your father’s temple pulses painfully. By the time they make their way off the platform you have been effectively swallowed up by a sea of gingers and Potters and you don’t even hazard a glance back at them.

 

“Albie!” You squeal as you barrel towards him and nearly topple him over with your hug, which only makes him giggle loudly and squirm around in your grasp to hug you back. It takes you a moment to realize that there are countless sets of eyes on the two of you and when you do, you drop your arms and smile a bit bashfully.  Albus introduces you to them all as a single unit of “family” and an awkwardly long moment passes before he kisses his parents goodbye and drags you aboard the train.  Once you are sequestered in a compartment you lean close enough that your foreheads are resting against one another and you whisper excitedly about your time apart and speculate about how brilliant this year is going to be. The rest of your friends squeeze into the compartment before the train sets off and you and Albus lean against one another as you all share stories about your holidays.

 

When you are apart you always feel like a piece of you is missing and although you don’t realize it yet, this feeling will only strengthen as time passes. There will come a time in your life when you are uncertain if you can actually function as a member of society without Albus at your side and your time apart will become increasingly difficult, to the point of self-destruction. But for now you are happy to live in this moment, arm in arm with Albus and surrounded by your friends as you ready yourselves to embark upon another year of school.

 

This year for your birthday Albus takes you down by the lake for your present. He’s got his acoustic guitar slung across his back and you are practically bursting with curiosity by the time you both sink down into the damp grass near the inky black water. He sings you a birthday song that he wrote just for you and although it may seem silly, it is the best present you have ever gotten. Your love for _the birthday song_ will never die and this moment will signify the start of a tradition between you. Albus will sing you this very same song every year and you will love it more with each passing year.

 

Albus’ birthday starts with an act that will wind you both in detention; not that you aren’t plenty accustomed to that sort of thing by this point. You slip out of your bed after curfew the night before and you have to stifle a sharp hiss of pain when your bare foot touches the stone-cold floorboards. The entire dorm is asleep, it’s obvious by the soft sounds of snoring that ring out and you smile devilishly as you tiptoe over to Albus’ bed and clamber inside. He yawns with his eyes closed as you slip beneath the thick duvet and close ice-cold fingers around his wrist. “Albie? You awake?” Your whispers in his ear earn you a sleepy mumble and he throws his arm over you and cuddles closer to you, which makes you giggle softly behind your hand. “Albie, wake up.” You say again and when you rub your cold feet against his he yelps in surprise and his eyes snap open angrily. “Cold!” He breathes and when you giggle again he rubs at his bleary eyes and peers at you like you are mentally deranged.

 

“I want to show you something.” You say a bit softer and when you rest your chin on his shoulder his raises a brow at you and ruffles your hair. “Couldn’t it wait until morning?” He asks in between deep and stifled yawns, although he already knows the answer.

 

“No. Come on.” You add and then you slide out of his bed and tug him along with. You manage to sneak out of the dungeons and slip out the front doors of the castle without being caught and as you steal across the lawns in the dead of night you feel like the most devious and cunning pair of boys in the entire world. The sky is uncommonly cleared for mid-November and you don’t stop until you find the perfect square of grass right in the center of the great lawns.  “This way.” You say with a smile and then you sink down into the grass, lie flat out on your back and wait for him to drop down beside you.  “It’s really effing cold out here.” He replies with a shiver, although he does join you a couple of seconds later.

 

He’s right, of course. It _is_ really effing cold, although it doesn’t really bother you as much as it probably should. When Albus lines himself up beside you the warmth from his body seeps into yours and you think that you could stay out here all night, just like this.

 

For a long while you remain silent and your eyes are cast up to the dark sky above. When Albus drops his head to peer at you, you can feel the weight of his stare and you cannot help but smile faintly. “Scor, what are we doing out here?” You know he’s only ventured outside in these temperatures because you asked him to, and that he’s trying to be optimistic of your seemingly crazy whims and you smile bigger and tilt your head enough to peer back at him in the darkness. “I said I wanted to show you something.” You reply as if this was a painfully obvious thing and when his brows furrow with confusion, you turn your attention back to the sky and start talking so that he will understand.

 

“Look, right up there. Do you see that cluster of seven stars?” You are pointing now at a particular spot in the sky and he follows your gaze and squints as he tries to make out what you already see.

 

“Seven stars?” He murmurs, and you can tell by his silence that he is still trying to find them.

 

“The trick is to not look so hard. Let your focus relax, take it all in and you will see them start to define one another. It’s a crooked line coming across right there, with the last two right beside.” You are following the line of stars with your finger without really trying because these lessons have long ago been taught to you and you know them as well as you do the stars in the sky.

 

“I…Ohh, I see it!” He sounds like a steady mix of relieved and excited and you laugh softly under your breath before continuing.

 

“That’s called the Plough, and once you are able to pick that out in the sky, it’s much easier to locate all of the rest. Memorize its shape and the feeling of picking it out and what it looks like to your eyes and once you’ve done that, focus on the last two stars. The ones that are side by side. Consider them your guide, your pointer to Polaris, which is north of the Plough.” You instruct him slowly and patiently and when you turn to look at him he is concentrated on the sky above so intently that it makes you smile warmly. “Do you see it?” You ask, still watching him, and after a moment or two he nods his head and says “Yeah,” and you are infinitely pleased.

 

“Polaris is a very important star, you see. Some people call it the North Star and the reason for that is that it is a constant in the sky above. If you can find Polaris you always know which way to go. The entire sky moves around it while it remains where it is, fixed in brilliant brightness. Polaris is famous and just about everyone in the entire world knows its name and for some of those people, Polaris is the brightest star in the sky.”

 

When you finish speaking a silence grows between you and when Albus tears his gaze away from the sky to peer at you in the darkness you hope that he understands what you are trying to tell him. “Polaris is like you, Albie, don’t you see? You are the brightest star I have ever met and I just know that one day, everyone will know your name.” When he stares at you it is like he is seeing you for the first time and although it will be a while yet before you are able to properly sort out how you feel about love and life and Albus, it is important that he knows how special he is to you, all the same. When he says nothing you steal a glance at your grandfather’s pocket watch and you smile because this plan had worked out precisely how you’d hoped it would.

 

“Happy birthday, Al.” You whisper in the dark and then you turn your attention back to the sky and when he inches a bit closer to you for warmth, you feel complete.

 

“Where’d you learn so much about stars?” He asks a long while later, after you’ve pointed out a handful of other constellations and your fingers have intertwined with his.   “My Uncle Theo really likes astronomy, he teaches me whenever we have a chance.” When you think of Theo and your father and home your smile falters only slightly, because you still miss them quite a lot, but not nearly as much as you do Albus when you are apart.

 

By the time the sun was beginning to rise you were scrambling for the castle hand in hand and hoping that none of the professors were up and about.  This part of your plan fails miserably when you are caught by Professor Longbottom and although he goes easy on you since it’s Al’s birthday and all, he still issues a detention for you both the following evening.  Albus thanks you endlessly for dragging him out to see Polaris and although he doesn’t say it, he thinks this is the best birthday he’s ever had and that anyone would be hard-pressed to top what you’d just given him.

 

****

**_3 rd year_ **

****

Your third year of school is a blur of studying, laughter, and endless fun. You and Albus make sure to pre-coordinate every one of your elective classes so that you are never apart. When he tries out for the Slytherin Quidditch team and fails to make the cut, you are right there with comforting words and promises of trying again next year. The days and nights blur together and everything is perfect. You’ve long since given up pining for home when you would much rather spend every day with Albus and the rest of your friends. Your birthday is spent sharing packages of sweets from home and of course, The _Birthday Song_ that you love so much. Albus spends much more of his time writing songs and you are like his biggest fan, always by his side encouraging him and clapping the loudest.  For the second year in a row the two of you sneak out of the castle to lie beneath the stars and stare up at the sky.  It’s so cold that you can see your breath hovering in front of you like puffs of smoke and when Albus begins to shiver beside you, you shrug out of your cloak and cover him with it like a blanket.

 

Polaris is waiting patiently for you both and the evening passes you by in a heap of giggles and sugar and by the time you are creeping back inside the warmth of the castle, your cheeks are flushed scarlet and your fingers are frozen and you wouldn’t trade a second of it.

 

This year, your mutual Slytherin classmates insist on throwing Albus an impromptu party in the common room, complete with obnoxious gag-gifts and mugs of nicked hot cocoa that Duston and Lloyd had pilfered from the kitchens. Albus takes up his guitar by the fire and sings several songs, which earn him cajoling cracks from your friends and endless smiles from you. By the time you lay down to sleep it is well after midnight and Albus’ birthday has come and gone for another year. Instead of sleeping in your own bed you share his and as you lie there beside him in the darkness you listen to the soft sounds of his sleep and you silently hope that there is never a time when this is not part of your life.

 

**_4 th year_ **

****

This is the year that everything changes.

 

Over the summer before school started you were finally able to convince your father to allow you to visit with Albus and you are pleased that you no longer have to use your mother to see him just because she knows your father forbids it.  The first time you visit Godric’s Hollow you never want to leave. Al’s home is perfect in every way that yours is not. His family is large and sometimes obnoxious, but they very clearly love one another and you feel more at home within the first hour than you do at your own multiple homes. He has a muggle telly vision that you are instantly enamored with and it is this summer before fourth year that you develop your love for muggle programming. When you are at Albie’s house you can do whatever you like without your father looming nearby with narrowed eyes and a pained expression. You can bake a cake and run through the weeded yards behind the house that span for miles. Albus sings you songs and you lie in a tangle of limbs on his sofa and gaze at the telly vision for hours on end and you never want to return home.

 

By the time you are heading back to school you have both grown considerably and you are now exceptionally tall for your age, although Albus is not far behind. You don’t miss the way people gaze at Albus in the halls when you pass by, and although you cannot yet determine _why_ , you are infinitely jealous of anyone that attempts to commandeer his attention.

 

Namely, the Scamander twins.

 

Much unlike the Montague twins, Lorcan and Lysander are like day and night. Lorcan is calculating and a bit cruel while Lysander is carefree and always smiling annoyingly large whenever he is around Albus. There is no possible way you can ignore the way Lysander goes out of his way to be near Albus, and you aren’t sure what angers you more—The fact that someone else was vying for Al’s attention, or the fact that you are unsure if Albus minds or not.

 

Quidditch tryouts are all that Albus can think about the first couple of weeks of school and you do your best to put your insecurities about the Scamanders aside and be supportive for your best mate. You do what you can to ease his tensions about the upcoming trials and when the day comes you focus all of your energy on making sure he is as relaxed as possible.

 

Which is an admittedly, impossible feat.

 

When he ditches your birthday in favor of a date with Lysander your entire world falls apart. You don’t often fight with Albus and this fight feels like the end of the world and you want to die. You are so hurt and so angry with him for forgetting your birthday and for an entire slew of other things that you are not capable of admitting to yourself that you hope he falls in the black lake and drowns with his guitar—Maybe _that_ would wipe that stupid grin off Lysander’s stupid face.

 

By the time Albus returns from his date you are livid and Alexa takes it upon herself to _fix_ you both because she is tired of your shit. Of course it only takes a few minutes alone in a locked room with Albus for your anger to fade and by the time he grabs up his guitar and sings you _The Birthday Song_ you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of you.

 

Of course, it helps when, after your talk with Albus, you realize that he isn’t all that in to dating Lysander. But that is beside the point.

 

Everything falls back into place after your birthday and you are once again riding the blissful highs of growing up beside the best mate that anyone could ask for. When Albus’ birthday arrives you make your yearly trek out to the lawns to see Polaris and although it feels like it always does, it feels different too. 

 

You know that you have no right to be so selfish when it comes to Albus. He cannot remain solely yours forever, you know that too. But you can’t help it. You’ve spent the last four years with him by your side and you don’t want to think about a time when he will be at someone else’s side instead of yours. An unexpected thundershower sends you running for the cover of the castle earlier than usual and you end up huddled together in Albus’ bed trying to shake off the violent shivers and chase away the cold. In the darkness you wish him a happy birthday and you stare at one another for a long moment before the spell is broken by the sudden arrival of your mutual friends.

 

Duston and Bryce come first, throwing themselves unceremoniously atop Al’s bed with a burst of obnoxious laughter. Garret and Lloyd are right behind them and before you know what’s happened the six of you are all seated on Albus’ bed together. When Duston pulls a dusty looking bottle of fire whiskey out of his shirt you all gaze at him respectfully and this signals the very start of your venture into drinking pilfered alcohol—Something that you will become extremely good at before long.

 

“Found this thing under a floorboard by the fireplace, wonder how long it’s been there.” Duston uncaps the bottle and your eyes widen in understanding and you throw your head back and laugh as a long-forgotten moment with your father comes to mind.

 

“So that’s what he meant.” You mutter more to yourself than anyone, and when they all stare at you curiously, Albus included, you tell them about that time at King’s Cross first year. 

 

“Your dad just became way cooler in my book.” Duston says before raising the bottle to his mouth and drinking deeply from it like he knows what he’s doing. When he sputters on the burn in his throat you laugh good-naturedly with your friends as the bottle is passed around.

 

“At least it’s not gone sour.” Lloyd adds after a shallow sip and when he passes the bottle to you, you shrug casually because you know your father well enough to know that he probably charmed the bottle for preservation.  He was horribly anal like that.

 

“You first, you’re the birthday boy.” You say and then you hand the bottle to Albus who takes it up with a devilish sort of grin.

 

“Thanks you guys.” He says and then he raised the bottle and takes a large swallow that he instantly regrets because fucking hell, it really _does_ feel like fire going down.

 

By the time the bottle is finished you are all sufficiently buzzed because you are nothing more than a group of fifteen-year-old lightweights. You laugh like everything is hilarious and in the morning the entire dorm of fourth year Slytherin boys has mysteriously come down with a flu that seems suspiciously similar to hung over.

 

Summer holiday comes at you so fast that you hardly have time to blink and you spend as much time with Albus as you are allowed. It is this particular summer leading up to fifth year when everything changes yet again. One epic end-of-summer party at Malfoy manor, some alcohol, and a particular song later and you finally can admit to yourself what you’ve been denying for so long.

 

When you kiss him it is like the end of the world all over again, only this time you are dying together and it is absolutely perfect. It doesn’t matter that you are terrified of becoming your parents or that you don’t know how to do this because you think you can do anything at all so long as Albus is by your side. You think you’ve always loved Albus, from that first moment you spotted him, and although you know that is crazy, you believe it because he is your Polaris.

 

**_5 th year_ **

****

This is the best year of your life at Hogwarts to date and you cannot seem to get enough of it.

 

When you return to school hand in hand with Albus you are both met with raised brows and wide eyes and even a few sad frowns. (Sorry Lysander, sucks to be you!) You squeeze his hand and hold your head high and very little of it touches you at all. You’ve had plenty of time in your life to harden yourself to the views and disapproval of others and this is nothing compared to that.

  
For the most part, very little actually changes in your little circle. It wasn’t as if you and Albus were not already joined at the hip, except how there were snogs laced with chocolate and peppermint and whispers behind bed curtains at night. 

  
Both your birthday and Albus’ birthday were very different. When Albus sings you _The Birthday Song_ on your birthday it is more special than it ever has been before. You spend the entire day wrapped up in his love and his kisses and you think that you’d very much like to spend every birthday just like this.

 

Once again you sneak out of the castle hand in hand to visit Polaris on the eve of Albus’ birthday. This time you bring shrunken blankets and brandy for warmth, all tucked into your pockets as you giggle your way through the dungeons and steal away into the night like a pair of thieves.   When you lie down side by side on the blanket you wrap yourself around him and watch him as he peers up at the blanket of stars lain out above you. Your heart swells with love and happiness and you can hardly believe that you’ve already spent five years together.

 

“Looks like you can officially date now.” You whisper in his ear at midnight and when he turns his head to grin at you, your insides constrict because you are so damn happy. Of course, you had both blatantly disregarded his parent’s silly rule, but it was still terribly amusing to point out.

 

When you kiss him he tastes like brandy and his tongue is warm and wet in your mouth. You are both awfully sloppy and more than a little clueless but that isn’t to say that you don’t get an O for your efforts. When your lips part you can feel his soft pants against your cheek and when you roll over to fit yourself atop him he stiffens for only a moment before he folds you up in a warm embrace and a breathless snog.  There is nowhere in the entire world you would rather be and you want him to know precisely how special he will always be to you. This time when your lips part you catch his bottom lip between your teeth and the soft hiss of surprise it elicits from him is enough to send a shiver straight down your center. When you release him you run your tongue along the seam of his lips and then you press a soft kiss to his jaw, which you follow up with a wet trail along his entire jawline. Albus tips his head back to allow you all the room to work that you might need and you do, with relish.

 

You kiss his throat hotly with parted lips, allowing your tongue to flick the skin trapped beneath teasingly and when your fingertips fiddle with the hem of his jumper you feel his breath catch in his throat and you smirk smugly to yourself.  It doesn’t take you very long to wriggle into a sitting position in his lap and when you hitch up his jumper to kiss his pale skin beneath the moonless night he shudders softly with unspoken delight.  You know he’s probably freezing to death even though you are burning up and you do you best to share your warmth with him between kisses. When your fingers curl into the front of his jeans you smile down at him and the nervous and impatient smile he gifts you with mutes out your entire world.

 

You know that this is a moment that neither of you will forget. You want it to mean something, which is why you’ve waited until precisely this moment before venturing into this territory. For all of his nervousness, Albus is unbearably overwhelmed and excited because he’s been dreaming about this moment a hell of a lot longer than the two of you have been snogging. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as you inch the zipper of his jeans down slowly and you don’t miss the not-so-subtle hardness pressed against your fingertips. A soft exhale escapes him and his lashes flutter like he’s in heaven and when you inch his pants down enough to expose him he shivers involuntarily for more reasons than one.

 

Lack of experience is not a hindrance to you. There is no one else in the world that you would share these experiences with if not Albus, and you will enjoy every moment of mutual discovery with him because you love him endlessly. You stare down at him for a moment and you can’t help but smile around the bottom lip caught in your teeth. He is beautiful and perfect and _just_ for you and this moment is everything that you knew it would be.  When your fingers wrap around him his body jerks beneath you and you smile softly and lean over him and cover him in kisses. It doesn’t take long before he’s burning up with your fever and he is lost in sensation and anticipation and trying to wrap his head around the fact that someone else is touching him in ways that no one ever has before. By the time you take him into your mouth experimentally he is practically whimpering and you are eating up all of it. The sticky wetness on your tongue is bitter but it doesn’t deter you because this is a part of Albus and you love every part of him.  The moment doesn’t last very long at all and although this was _really_ more of a hand job than a blowjob, you are rewarded with the most beautifully stifled cries of pleasure that you’ve ever heard in your life.

 

It doesn’t take Albus very long to locate his faculties and when he does he reaches for you and tugs you down to him so firmly that you gasp and giggle into his open mouth. When he kisses you, there is the faintest trace of saltiness on your tongue and he his lashes flutter and he kisses you harder.  By the time you stumble back to the castle and tumble into Albus’ bed together your are both kiss-swollen and flushed and he has no idea how you keep managing to top his birthday every year and can hardly wait for the next one.

 

**_6 th year_ **

****

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the last birthdays the two of you spend together before Albus leaves you to chase a dream. Next year you will spend your birthday and his birthday at Hogwarts while he is away and although your friends will surround you, you will never feel as alone as you do that year.

 

But this is not that year.

 

This year Albus raises the bar by constructing a tent near the far edge of the forest for the two of you to spend your birthday in. It is a complete secret and well hidden and when your birthday has passed you cannot bear to tear it down. You sneak out there as often as you can to be together and it is the best-kept secret between you.

 

When Albus’ birthday rolls around you make the yearly trek out to the lawns in the middle of November to gaze up at Polaris. He lays his head in your lap and you feed him cookies and you talk about your future because that is what seventeen year-old boys do, apparently. Albus has dreams of touring the entire world and singing his songs to the masses and you have no doubt that his dreams will come true because you have seen first hand just how brightly his star shines. You don’t want to think about what Albus touring the world means for you so instead you curl up on the blanket with him in your arms and you kiss languorously beneath the starry sky. When he shivers in your arms you fold him in tighter and attempt to bathe him in your warmth.

 

“Promise me that we’ll always have _The Birthday Song_ and Polaris.” He says this quietly while gazing up at you from his safe haven in your embrace and you smile because he is so fucking adorable you could just die.

 

“You are _my_ Polaris.” You reply with a smile and when his cheeks color beautifully you lean close enough to kiss him.

 

“Let’s go to the tent.” He murmurs breathlessly between kisses and when you nod in agreement you both stand and head off across the grounds towards the other side of the lake.

 

Of course It’s warmer in the tent, it had been charmed that way, which made it a much better location to shed clothing than in the middle of the great lawns.   When you are safely ensconced within the warm folds of your garish little tent you take your time divesting him of his clothing and you kiss and worship every inch of him with far more practice than you did the year previous. When he comes apart in your arms your heart swells with love and emotion and it is all you need.

 

“Happy birthday Albus.” You murmur into his hair sometime later and his sleepy mumble beside you make you smile faintly and you silently hope that it will always be like this.

 

It is this moment, right here, that solidifies everything that you’ve experienced with Albus up until this point. He is and will always be the brightest star in your life, your very own _Polaris_ and you are eternally grateful to the gods for allowing you to find him so early in your life. You cannot imagine a single moment that does not involve him and you hope that you will never have to find out what the sting of loss feels like because you are not sure you can survive something like that.  In the years that follow the shared memories of your birthdays will serve as a testament to the purest and truest love the world has ever known and when you take Albus’ hand in marriage years and years into the future in this very same tent, you will finally be totally and completely one.

 

As you were always meant to be.

 

 

_Happy birthday Albus…_

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Coevolution: Consonants, Vowels, and Denial](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107130) by [unkissed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkissed/pseuds/unkissed)




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